


heaven and hell

by luckycharmz



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Amnesia, Comfort/Angst, Future Fic, Hurt Ian Gallagher, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckycharmz/pseuds/luckycharmz
Summary: “Doc?” Ian mumbles, his eyes are open but still bleary as he tried his best to look up.“Real fuckin’ funny, Gallagher,” Mickey gives him an unamused smile and moves his hand to Ian’s cheek but he flinches.“Who are you then?” Ian asks, eyes wide and confused as he shifts away from Mickey.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 267





	heaven and hell

“Jesus, Mick. So what if I fuckin’ paid. You can get the next one,” Ian’s annoyed as they walk home. It’s date night, they had dressed up all fancy and were happy until the bill came around. Ian was the first to grab it, leaving cash and before he could get up, Mickey had already walked out the door. 

It’s brittle in Chicago, snow everywhere and what are these two doing? Arguing over who paid for dinner. Kinda romantic in their South Side ways.

“Fuck you,” Mickey whose a few steps ahead as he walks up the stairs and onto the porch. Jostling his pocket for their keys, ready to head straight to bed without another word.

“Mick, c’mon..” Ian pleads, hot in his heels as he grabs onto Mickey’s wrist but before he knows it Mickey’s shrugging it off, pushing him back just enough that he’s slipping on the ice and loud thump is heard. 

“Gallagher? Fuck..” Mickey turns, his face falling to a frown as he rushes down the steps and then he’s on his knees in front of a sprawled out Ian. “Ian? Hey,” Mickey murmurs, patting the side of his cheek a few times and then his eyes are opening up again. 

“Sorry,” Ian murmurs, a frown on his face and his eyes of a wounded puppy as he looks up at Mickey. They start to get watery as he brings a hand up to his head and rubs it. “It hurts,” he blinks heavily and then his eyes are slowly shutting again. 

Mickey’s mind freezes over, no way is this fucking happening. “Ian? Fuck, man. It’s fine you paid, okay? Wake the fuck up, _please_ ,” he sounds defeated and worried as he takes his phone out and hurriedly dials the first number he can think of. 

“Milkovich?” 

“Ain’t got time for questions, Sue, Ian fell. Need you,” Before he can even get a response the line cuts off and he knows she’s on her way. 

But that doesn’t sit well with him still. He’s sitting by him and he’s unable to do fuck all, even if he wanted to- he really couldn’t. His hands are shivering but he feels numb and then he hears the ambulance sirens. Back in the day those sirens would’ve haunted him, he’d be running away not knowing what it was but today he’s begging for them to come quicker. Everything happens so quick Mickey thinks he misses it. Sue saying it’ll be alright, that he’s still breathing, Ian getting strapped on the gurney and rolled in then they’re at the hospital. 

The hospital. Jesus, fuck the hospital for being what it is. For making him pissed and sad every damn time he’s around and more times than not- with Ian on the bed. Maybe he should’ve just let him pay and not made a big deal out of it. Yeah, well, Mickeys still human and he’s a man and men are supposed to pay, otherwise you’re just some bitch and he can’t help what he’s always known to be the truth. 

He hates having to sit outside and wait, his knees jumping and digging his nails into his palms. Then he’s pacing, bottom lip between his teeth. Scratching the back of his head, going out for a smoke or three but then he’s getting called in because  _your partner should be waking up soon_.  He walks through the door way too eagerly, tuning out everything the nurse tells him because Ian’s in there and he’s out here when he should be in there. 

So he steps in eventually, Ian’s still asleep. His mouth is slightly open and of course he’s snoring, he usually does when he’s tired. He walks toward the bed, afraid to get to close or he thinks he’ll fuck something up again. But then Ian’s opening his eyes slowly and green meets blue just as the grass meets the sky each day and the world falls together again. 

“Hey,” Mickey whispers, looking down at him, his head his wrapped in a bandage and there’s a small scar on his cheek from scraping the ice. 

“Doc?” Ian mumbles, his eyes are open but still bleary as he tried his best to look up. 

“Real fuckin’ funny, Gallagher,” Mickey gives him an unamused smile and moves his hand to Ian’s cheek but he flinches. 

“Who are you then?” Ian asks, eyes wide and confused as he shifts away from Mickey. 

“This ain’t a fuckin’ joke, Ian,” Mickey sounds desperate and weak. He hopes to fuck Ian’s messing around because this is the last thing he needs. 

But Ian doesn’t say anything, far too confused as to why some guy he’s never met knows his name. So Mickey walks out before he has the chance to lash out. His eyes heavy and body numb as he hunts down the same doctor from earlier. They check on Ian and tell him he may have amnesia from the fall, _it’ll wear off in a few hours, Mr Milkovich, nothing to worry._ That’s all Mickey _can_ do but he’ll deal with a few hours, horribly, but he’ll deal with it anyways. 

Ian’s asleep when he makes his way back, a cup of shitty hospital coffee in hand and a snickers bar from the vending machine. An hour goes by, he falls in and out of sleep himself, it’s late and then wakes up to watch some tv- on mute. “If you don’t remember me next time you wake up, I’ll break your skull open and fix it myself,” he mutters because he’s still pissed and mad and hurt.

He watches Ian for a while, tears brimming his eyes because in no world is he letting Ian get away from him. But he doesn’t know what to do if he’d have to do it all over again. That too with Ian not knowing a damn thing about him- _about them._ It hurts to just watch Ian knowing he doesn’t remember him, the short moments they’d talked had been running through Mickey’s mind- the way he flinched at his touch, breaking Mickey. 

He tells himself he can deal with a few hours, agonizingly nonetheless but he’s a Milkovich, he can fucking deal. 

It’s an hour later when Ian wakes up but Mickey’s asleep, that too uncomfortably in the chair. Slouched forward on top of Ian’s arms, breathing quietly. Ian threads his free hand through Mickey’s hair softly. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispers, trying to wiggle the hand underneath Mickey. 

“Hmm..” Mickey yawns, his eyes slowly blinking open with a sleepy smile and then he remembers what happened. “You asshole,” he punches hard Ian right in the arm, not caring if it hurts.

“Hey -- _ow!_ Jesus, what the _fuck?_ ” Ian furrows his brows and holds onto his bicep. Hurt written all over his face as he looks up at Mickey with a frown.

Mickey stands, a hand gripping the side of Ian’s face and making him look up, “you ever wake up again and don’t remember me, I’ll kill you.”

Ian nods helplessly, unaware of what Mickey’s talking about but figures it’s important going by the expression on his face. His eyes are red and puffy and lips look raw from biting them. 

“You didn’t know who I was when you woke up, amnesia or some bullshit they said. You ever pull that again-“

“I won’t. _Hey_ , I’m still me, _c’mere_ ,” Ian’s voice is soft and soothing as he pulls Mickey down. Shifting to the side to make space for him to lay down side by side. 

“You can’t just die on me, Ian,” he whispers but it’s broken. He moves down to tuck his face in Ian’s neck, his eyes sting and pool with wetness. Just the thought of loosing Ian breaks him. 

“I’m sorry... I won’t pay the bill next time, okay?” he smiles and he hears Mickey snort too before he’s clenching down on his shirt. 

“We’re gonna go when we’re old as fuck. In an old home or some shit, bickering and nagging each other. Grey and wrinkly and.. you don’t get to go before me,” he mumbles against Ian’s skin and Ian can’t take it anymore. 

He pulls Mickey’s face up by the chin and looks down into watery blue eyes. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you so don’t you dare say that shit to me,” his own eyes pool as he wipes Mickey’s face. “You think you can rid of me so easily, Milkovich?” he pauses, his heart feels constrained. “I’m meeting you in hell anyways,” he smiles wearily, pressing his forehead down to Mickey’s because this moment all too much for him now. 

“Piss off, angels go to heaven,” Mickey teases, pressing his lips to Ian’s gently. 

“Sure they do, but the reason you’re on your knees.. not sure it adds up,” the redhead finally grins and Mickey can’t help but mirror it. Ian’s smile is insanely infectious and he hopes to see it forever. 

Maybe even in hell.


End file.
